Squicktastic!
by Altaria Volante
Summary: What happens when the characters in your story don't want to cooperate? And why am I not surprised that it was Fred and George Weasley...
1. Characters Will Bite if Provoked

A/N: It's humorous. This isn't meant to insult any 'ship just a cute little something to make ya laugh. Please R/R :) 

* * *

**Squicktastic**

_Chapter 1: Characters Will Bite if Provoked_

It was a dark and stormy night outside Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but inside, candles and lanterns provided warmth for her students. But that wasn't the only warmth being provided. High in the Gryffindor tower, the seventh year dorm room was alight with the burning passion of two stunning ginger-haired Adoni. 

"Who the bloody hell are you calling 'Adoni'?" 

"And what do you mean by 'passion'?" 

"I don't like where this is headed, George…" 

"Maybe she'll at least put the Gryffie chasers in here… growl…" 

_Alright, look, someone asked me to write something smutty and they wanted you two in it. _

George snickered. "Bloody hell. Who did they want us with? Angelina? Katie? Hermione?" 

"Hey, at least it's not Ginny," Fred added. 

_Well, guys… She wanted it with **you two**._

"SWEET MERLIN!" Fred yelled. "They want TWINCEST!" 

George shook his head. "Nope, sorry. We don't swing like that." 

_You don't have a choice. I'm the Author. My pen controls your destiny._

"You type on a computer or other word processing device," George pointed out. 

_Shut up._

Fred sat down on his bed and leaned back. "You seem like you could use some help… cause, if you try to write us as twincest, we'll screw up this fic so fast that it'll make your whizzes whirl." 

_You wouldn't dare._

"You watch us," George laughed. "Can you honestly think of anything that we wouldn't be capable and willing to do, short of death or permanent dismemberment, to save our own hides and get a good laugh?" 

_Well… no…_

"Case in point!" Fred exclaimed. He pulled himself up into a sitting position and grinned stupidly. "So, now that we've established that we're not doing the, uh…" He turned to George. "I need a blatant Americanism for the Author." George paused long enough to retrieve a sheet of parchment from the desk and an ink quill. He scribbled a quick word or two and slipped the sheet to Fred. "Ah, brilliant," Fred replied, before staring up at the ambiguous Author again. "We're not doing the nookie nookie for your bookie bookie." 

_The nookie nookie…_

Fred and George exchanged a quick glance before breaking into roaring laughter. "We've stunned the American!" Fred exclaimed. 

"Hallelujah Brother Fred!" 

"Hallelujah Brother George!" 

_Excuse me. If you wouldn't mind, I really need to get this story done. My friend wants it by the end of the night. I kinda promised it to her._

Fred and George coughed slightly to try and regain their composure. "Alright, understandable," George finally answered. 

"We'll make you a deal," Fred started. "You write what you think she'd like… and we'll only stop you if we get uncomfortable." 

_Um, out of the list she gave me, this might get a little bit squicky…_

George raised an eyebrow curiously. "Squicky?" 

_Yeah, it's a fanon term. It means, um, discomforting?_

"You misunderestimate us," Fred answered, grinning broadly. He paused before breaking out into raucous laughter once again. "Blatant Americanism! We gotcha again!" 

_That's not a blatant Americanism._

"Well it's not British, so it's good enough!" George howled. 

_Can you guys be serious for even a minute?_

The twins paused. 

_Sorry, forgot who I was writing. Well, we might as well get started. I'll start going through her list and we'll see what we can do. You just have to promise to give it a chance. Alright?_

"Sure, why not," Fred shrugged. 

"We've got nothing else planned for tonight," George supplied. 

*** 

George sat on his little sister's bed. It hurt him so much to see her in so much pain. After what had happened last year in the Chamber, she had withdrawn into herself. She'd made a point to not get too close to people - even her family. But George knew better. He remembered the happy little girl that Ginny had always been. He remembered the girl who innocently chased garden gnomes with them. The one who loved her stuffed dragons that Charlie sent for birthdays and Christmases. 

How sad he was to see that little girl go. 

"Ginny," he whispered quietly. "You can't just stay holed up in your room." 

"You don't understand!" she wailed. "None of you understand! You weren't used like I was." Ginny shot up from her spot on the pillow, her face stained with tears that had fallen and her eyes swollen from tears that still threatened. 

George sighed, placing a hand on his little sister's shoulder. "It wasn't your fault, Ginny. No one blames you. You can't continue to blame yourself." 

She sniffed back her tears unsuccessfully. "But… I see the way that you all look at me. The way that Hermione looks at me. I petrified her!" she exclaimed. "Don't you understand?" 

"You didn't petrify her." 

"It was close enough. I let him out." 

"He controlled you, Ginny," George added, leaning in closer. 

Ginny's eyes went wide… and hopeful. "Do you really mean that?" 

George nodded slowly. He couldn't seem to pull away from her innocent stare. Her eyes sparkling with unshed tears… her ginger hair strewn haphazardly across her face. "You don't know how much that means to me… George." 

"I could never do anything that would make you unhappy or make you cry… Ginny," he responded, placing a tender, loving hand against her cheek. He absently wiped a small tear as it fell. "Why are you crying again, Ginny?" he asked quietly. 

"I…I can't help it," she answered quietly. "I was never sure how you felt… you and Fred are always so…" 

"Troublesome?" George laughed. 

Ginny laughed and nodded. "Yes, troublesome. But you're oh so much fun." 

"Anything to make you smile, Ginny m'dear," he replied. 

Tears started to fall down her cheeks yet again. "George… could I ask you to do something for me?" 

"Yeah," George replied. "You know I'd do anything for ya, little sister." 

Ginny fluttered her eyelashes innocently. "Would you give me a kiss?" 

George smiled. "Of course." He leaned forward and pecked his little sister on her forehead. "Do you feel better now?" 

"That's not what I meant." Ginny's voice had become throatier. 

George paused. "Uh… what did you mean?" 

Ginny threw herself into George's lap. "You're a man, and I'm only a woman George!" she wailed. "Show me that you love me!" 

George paled. "Can I get you a stuffed animal? Chocolate frogs? Wand wax?..." 

Ginny giggled. "No… silly. Treat me like the woman I am! I want you to kiss me! Kiss me, George!" 

George yelped and threw his sister out of his lap. "SQUICKY!" he screamed before pointing an accusatory finger up in the air. "You! Now that's just wrong!" 

_What? That was another one on the list._

"Sweet Merlin!" George wimpered, continuously wiping his hands against his robes like they were dirty. "She's my baby sister! And she's only 12!" 

_People enjoy that. Well, they prefer Ron but I had already promised I'd use you and Fred in the story._

"You get me out of this storyline right this instant!" George screamed. 

_Fine, fine. Whatever. Lemme go down the list again._

"Use Fred next time." 

_Fine._

TBC... 


	2. Pretty Kitty and Squicky Piggy

A/N: Thanks for the reply on the first chapter... and now, more pairing to make you go 'Ugh... squicky...' 

_Chapter 2: Pretty Kitty and Squicky Piggy_

Fred slumped against the wall. His day couldn't get any worse. At least, that's what he had told himself at breakfast when he became the target of flying syrup - for the third day in a row. And by his darling baby brother, too. Poor Ron. He was going to end up enchanted to have a peacock tail by the end of the day as penance for this horrible assault. But maybe that would teach the boy not to flirt with disaster if he couldn't handle the consequences. Ron will just have to pay. 

A soft sigh escaped his lips. Waiting for punishment from the house head was worse than the actual punishment. Fred spent these minutes contemplating what he would do to someone like him. Luckily, McGonagall wasn't as creative as he was. 

"Mr. Weasley." 

Fred jumped up from his perch against the wall. He smiled up at Professor McGonagall. "My, Professor… you really are looking radiant these days. Are you using a new moisturizer?" 

McGonagall pursed her lips together and motioned inside the Transfiguration room. "Enough of that, Mr. Weasley. Compliments like that may have gotten you out of trouble before, but I realize that I have been much too lenient with you and your brother. If you are to be able to enter the wizarding world as fully functioning adults, I'm going to have to instill in you a better since of decorum." 

Grinning, Fred plopped down onto one of the desks. "Oh, couldn't we just leave that to my Mum? She's used that line often enough-" 

"Silence!" she snapped, slamming her hand down on the desk. 

Fred jumped. The woman wasn't usually this sharp with him. Usually it was a stern talking to, maybe a detention or two, and a couple of points from Gryffindor. That's how it had always been and by Merlin, that's Fred wanted it to stay. He motioned to the desk and mumbled behind closed lips. 

"What was that, Mr. Weasley?" she asked, tapping her wand against the desk. 

"Mmmmhmmhm…" 

"Speak up, boy!" the professor snapped. "I haven't sealed your lips yet." 

"But you told me to be silent…" 

"Shut up and tell me what you were trying to say!" 

Fred paused, trying to sort out the seemingly contradictory statement. He concluded that it would be more beneficial to talk than to face her wrath. After all, he didn't want to become transfigured into a tea kettle or some other inanimate object by accident if he got her mad enough - Lee Jordan had mentioned that happening to his older brother's roommate's sister a few years back. "I was asking if I should take a seat, or would you prefer for me to stand?" 

McGonagall pursed her lips together once again. "Any position is fine. You'll be punished just as easily either way." 

He dropped down into the seat, delicately placing his wand on the desk in full view of the professor, as was their detention custom. McGonagall reached out and swiped the enchanted wood and slipped it into a fold in her robe. "You won't be needing that anytime soon," she muttered, her hands moving to the clasp near her neck. 

Fred's eyes went wide… why did he have the sudden feeling of impending doom? 

The feeling was well founded. No sooner had her fingers fluttered across the clasp did the robes drop to the floor, revealing a skin-tight leather cat suit. She threw off her glasses, shook her head to release her long silver hair from its captive hairdo, and commanded the transfiguration of her grade book into a long cat-of-nine-tails whip. 

"Um… P-Professor?" Fred stuttered. 

"Shut up boy," she purred, resting a black stiletto boot against his chair. She tapped the whip on the ground and laughed quietly. "I'm going to teach you a lesson because you were a very… very bad boy." 

"Professor McGonagall… I think you're trying to seduce me." The professor tossed her head back and roared with laughter. Fred swallowed hard. "And I don't think I like it!" he finally squeaked out. "Author! Author!" 

_What now?_

"The professor?! Why did it have to be the professor?!" Fred screamed. 

_Well, she's really talented. I mean, she can transfigure a radio out of bamboo and coconuts._

"What's a radio?" 

_Never mind._

"I think you should-" 

_I know, I know… go annoy George now._

*** 

Harry sighed. Another summer with the Dursley's. Why couldn't Dumbledore just let him go live with Sirius… or the Weasleys? It just wasn't fair. 

"Are you going to eat all of your cake?" Dudley asked, motioning towards Harry's plate. 

Harry sighed, not bothering to glance down at the plate. "I can't eat cake when I'm not given a bloody piece, now can I?" 

Dudley erupted into fits of laughter. Harry gripped the edge of the table to stop the vibrations in the floor the fat boy's convulsions had caused. Again, Harry stopped to ponder why Dumbledore insisted upon putting him through this torture year end and year out. 

"Dudley-poopykins-iwinsies," Petunia called sweetly from the kitchen. "Do you want another slice of cakey-wakey?" 

"Yes Mum," Dudley replied, just as saccharine sweet, delivering a swift kick to Harry's shins on the word 'Mum'. 

That was it. Harry had had it. He was finished with the Dursleys. If there was any way possible, he was getting out. 

Quite without warning, the idea came to him. 

The Weasley's had fixed the Dursley's fireplace onto the Floo Network late last year while the Dursley's had been on holiday. If there was still that little bag of Floo Powder in his bag, this might work. It wasn't enough to send him through, but maybe he could send a letter. Harry leapt up from the table and dashed upstairs to his hole of a room. 

"MUM!" Dudley shrieked. "He's leaving before I'm finished eating!" 

Vernon Dursley placed his newspaper in his lap and glared at the boy. "Well don't just sit there, go get him back! My son is not a pansy arse who's afraid to get what he wants!" 

Dudley nodded, struggling to pull himself out of the chair. The weight he'd gained from the pieces of cake had latched on to his hips and forced him off balance. The boy tumbled to the floor right in front of his mother and the stove. 

"Oh! Dudley-wudley!" Petunia exclaimed. "Are you alright?" 

Dudley didn't have time to answer - he was too busy protecting his head from the boy jumping over it. The tumble had given Harry enough time to write a note, grab the Floo power, and make his way back here. The heroic boy-who-lived crumpled the note, tossed it and the pinch of Floo powder he had into the fireplace and yelled "The Burrow!" In a green flash, the paper was gone. 

"And what God-forsaken magic have you just performed, boy?" Vernon roared, slamming his paper down again. 

Harry smirked. "Oh, nothing Uncle Vernon. It's just a pretty trick." 

"You're lying, boy," Vernon growled. "If I found out you lied, it'll be back to the cupboard for you!" 

"Oh, he wasn't lying." 

The Dursleys turned to face the voice that came from the fireplace. Instead of the wood there stood two identical boys, both smirking and tapping their wands against their arms. "W-Who are you?" Vernon stuttered. 

The boys bowed. "Allow us to introduce ourselves. My name is Your Worst, and my companion here is Night Mare." 

Harry smiled. "Fred… George… where are the others?" 

"They should be here in a few," George answered. "We were the closest when we got your note." 

"This is black magic! Evil!" Vernon snapped, only to be silenced by Fred's wand pointed at his mouth. 

"Would you like to keep your vocal chords, or can I play 'cat's cradle' with them?" Fred laughed. 

"You leave my father alone!" Dudley shouted, finally getting off of the floor and waddling towards the other twin. 

"Oh please… this is who has been oppressing you for so long, Harry?" George asked, shoving the fat boy down to the ground. He leaned over the little piggy and smiled. "I'm afraid you're not quite as scary down there." 

Dudley looked up at the boy who'd hurt him. A glassy look came over his eyes as he glared at the twin. "You… you have the loveliest eyes," Dudley murmured. 

"Well, thank you, I try to-" George stopped as soon as he realized what was about to happen. "Oh bloody hell." 

"I can see myself in your eyes." 

"No you can't." 

"Just like I can see myself in your arms," Dudley swooned. He sat up slowly and encircled his arms around George's legs. "You are so right!" he cried, tears starting to trail down his plump face. "I have treated him as… as sub-human! It was wrong! So w-wrong," he blubbered. 

"Sweet Merlin," George mumbled. He tried in vain to yank Dudley from his legs. "Get a hold of yourself, man. Remember? I'm magic scum." 

"I have seen the error of my ways!" Dudley roared. "I was wrong. Harry is a fine cousin… one could ask for none better." He tilted his eyes upward. "Although, I would like to get to know YOU better," he added with a swinish grin. 

George paled. "Getoffgetoffgetoff!" he shrieked, finally removing himself from the terribly grasped. "What did I ever do to you!" he whimpered from his protected position behind Fred. 

_It was on the list!_

"Don't feel bad, George," Fred supplied. "The one before that was McGonagall." 

George's face contorted in revulsion. "Ugh. Squicky." 

"Yeah, tell me about it." 

_You know, you two are giving me more problems than Draco ever did._

"That's because that git will get with anything that has legs," Fred supplied. 

_And Hermione. She understood the literary importance of this work._

"Repressed," George replied. 

_Look, you don't have a choice. Let's make the next one a little bit more entertaining, shall we?_

Fred and George nodded. "We solemnly swear that we won't ruin a good story." 

_Thank you._

"We'll see how long it takes for her to come up with a GOOD story," George whispered, Fred nodding in agreement. 

TBC... 


	3. Snakes and Snails and Puppy Dog Tails

_Chapter 3: Snakes and Snails and Puppy Dog Tails…_

"This is an outrage to writers and creative minds worldwide!" Professor Snape roared, slamming a trio of papers down on a desk in his office. 

_I knew I shouldn't have given you the script and told you what was going on before the fic started. You know, when the characters don't want to play fair, I can understand that. But you… you are a professor. You know the importance of quality work._

"Do you have any idea what kind of trouble a Professor would be subject to if this… this… dribble was in any way true?" he hissed at the omnipotent Author. 

_Look at it this way - if you agree not to give me any problems and cooperate like your colleague Minerva, I will conveniently forget to tell your students that you have a certain penchant for American negligee from Victoria's Secret._

Snape paled… even more than his usual sallow complexion. "You wouldn't dare," he managed in barely a whisper. 

_Try me._

"But… but how did you find out?" the Professor sputtered. 

_I have friends in low places…_

"Damn you. Damn you all…" 

_… where the whiskey drowns and the beer chases my blues away…_

"Oh shut up," Snape snapped. "Don't quote your hellacious Muggle country and western music. I don't have the patience for that today." 

_Excuse me… but it hasn't been referred to as 'country and western' since the late 1980s._

Snape turned his attention back to the papers and potions on his desk. "I hate you. I hate you with the passion of a thousand fleeting suns that burn the body and soul with the unquenchable sulfur of hell," he mumbled bitterly. 

_I'll take that as a yes._

*** 

"Ten points from Gryffindor!" Snape roared from his desk at the front of the dungeon. 

A Hufflepuff seventh-year tentatively raised her hand. "Professor… no one from Gryffindor House is in this lesson. This is the Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw lesson." 

Professor Snape pursed his thin, pale lips together in irritation. He contemplated this most unfortunate turn of events for quite a long moment before replying to the brazen Hufflepuff. "Find one." 

The Hufflepuff looked to her deskmate, and then back to the professor. "Excuse me?" she asked nervously. 

Snape sighed tiredly. "What did you not comprehend about my _request_?" he hissed, rising from his seat to hover over his desk. "I want you to walk outside of my dungeon, travel ever so carefully up the stairs, find me a Gryffindor - being a seventh-year is merely a bonus, not a requirement - and bring the poor student back here." He paused, waiting for the girl to nod in understanding. "Does that seem so unreasonable? Now go!" he snapped. He had to grin at the sheer speed that the Hufflepuff could run out of his class. Without a moment's hesitation, Snape returned his attention to the sniveling mass of horribly unprepared potions students. "Now, if we've all had quite enough of a break… although you certainly did not deserve one… we shall return to listing the ingredients of a Desire Draught." 

The class had finally finished decoding all of the ingredients of the esoteric potion from its original Latin when the Hufflepuff returned to the dungeon with not one but three Gryffindors in tow. Snape smiled a smirky smile and had to chuckle to himself. "I ask for one, and I get three. Five points to Hufflepuff." He walked over to the boys and glared down at them. "Welcome to my class, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, and Mr. Jordan." 

Fred, George, and Lee were all contemplating the best move out of the classroom. They all three, though no one person would dare to ever admit this afterwards, were feeling much like rabbits locked in a cage in the Transfiguration lab, waiting for Professor McGonagall to transfigure them into an inanimate object… or worse… letting someone like that Longbottom boy experiment on them. 

"You're just in time to help the class with a little… experiment," Snape continued. 

Fred snickered. "Ooh, experiments… I would never have guessed that experiments would be done in Potions…" 

"SILENCE!" the Professor roared, slamming his hand down on the nearest desk. "I will not tolerate such contempt in my classroom!" His expression quickly softened into one of snarky amusement. 

"Snarky amusement?" George mumbled. "What kind of a description is that?" 

_Oh, quiet you. You know what I mean._

"Let's play a little game, shall we?" Snape interrupted, sitting down on the nearby desk. "I would bet galleons to goblins that no one in this class has made the potion correctly." He motioned to Fred and George. "Pick two potions," he commanded. 

The twins nodded hesitantly, duly frightened as to where this was going to end up. Fred selected the potion of a Ravenclaw, Miss Alasandressia Opalescence, and American transfer student with a dark and shady past that no one had successfully uncovered yet… although he had heard that Harry was getting close with the unending support of his lover Draco. 

* 

"I would like to take this opportunity to state for the record that I, Harry Potter, am NOT dating Draco Malfoy!" Harry hissed. 

Draco snickered from his red velvet chair stationed at the end of the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. "You wish." 

* 

George, on the other hand, selected the potion of a Mr. Lysander Smithson… a Hufflepuff that was rumored to be the long lost descendent of Helga Hufflepuff and the possessor of powers that boggle the minds of even Albus Dumbledore. 

Snape took one of the potions for himself smiled at Fred. "Drink up, Mr. Weasley. Let's see how these work." Fred, looked tentatively at the potion before swallowing it in a single gulp… while Snape did the same. Contrary to what the Professor had believed would happen, the potion did take effect. 

"Bloody hell," George groaned. "I thought picking from the Mary Sues was safe." 

"It's fanfic," Lee mumbled, taking a step back from the now flushed Professor and student. "Nothing is safe." 

Fred smiled a toothy grin while slowly running his fingers through his flaming red. "Professor… I never noticed how _masculine_ you looked in your robes." 

"How very true, Mr. Weasley," Snape murmured, rising from the desk and strolling liquidly over to Fred. "And you… Mr. Weasley," he said, trailing a pale, cool hand down Fred's chest, "are truly a god among men." 

"I want to vomit," George replied. 

"Don't make me live in such torment!" Snape cried, grabbing Fred around the waist and pulling his taught, manly body closer. The pair meshed together as if they were two pieces of the same puzzle… a picture now complete. "I can't bear the thought of living another day without you!" 

Fred smiled languidly. "Oh… Severus. This is just the potion talking." 

"No… no my darling," Snape replied, stroking the red head just the way he liked. "This is my heart… my soul. For you are one with it." 

"And I wish to become one with you," Fred replied, needing… wanting… 

"You should do something to stop this!" Lee cried, motioning for George to act. 

_He'll do nothing of the sort… for once everyone is behaving exactly as the story dictates and you are NOT GOING TO RUIN IT!_

Lee suddenly vanished. 

George paled. "I have to do something! Fred will never forgive me if I didn't. Twin pride and all that…" 

Snape shoved everything off of his desk, and threw himself down upon it. "Take me now, my ginger Adonis!" he cried. "Ravish me, cleanse me, make me pure again…" 

"Anything for you my love," Fred replied, climbing upon the desk. 

George closed his eyes and pointed his wand at the monstrosity on the Professor's desk. "I wish I had paid more attention in Charms," he muttered. "_Stupify!_" he cast, throwing the charm, hopefully, at Professor Snape. 

_You two can't follow a script, can you?_

George finally opened his eyes after hearing a tell-tale thud and laughter. Snape was lying on the ground in a rather… unbecoming… position. Fred was shaking his head and repeatedly wiping his hands on his robes. "I touched Snape, I touched Snape, I touched Snape," his brother kept repeating. Muttering and wiping, muttering and wiping… 

"I'm glad to see you're no longer trying to hump the Potions Master like a bitch in heat," George laughed. 

His laughter was interrupted by a large, black dog bursting through the dungeon doors and lunging at Fred. The twin was knocked down to the ground and forcing into another, well, compromising position. 

"Snuffles!" a voice called, getting closer and closer to the dungeon. "Snuffles!" 

George turned from gawking his brother and the dog to the voice entering the room. "Harry! Your dog?" 

Harry nodded. "We were having a conversation and all of a sudden he dashed off, panting like his did when Madam Pomfery's poodle got loose in the building… what in all of Britain is Fred doing with Snuffles?" 

George bit his lip to suppress the laughter. "I think the more pertinent question is what is your dog trying to do to my brother." 

"Bad Snuffles!" Harry snapped, with Snuffles regretfully slumping to the floor. "I honestly don't know why he'd act this way…" 

"I do!" Fred wailed, still lying spread eagle on the floor and terrified to move lest he encourage another onslaught of ravaging affections from Merlin knows who else. "It's that bloody author!" 

_Hey, you mentioned a bitch in heat and I thought you might have been up for it, ok? Don't blame me… you should be more careful with what you say._

"Bloody hell!" Fred hissed. 

Harry looked from Fred, to George, to the sky, trying to find the voice that was speaking to the boys. "Hey, what's going on? What's the echoing voice?" 

George sighed. "That would be the Author," he explained. "Turns out as penance for past misdeeds-" 

_You are NOT being punished!_

"-we are being forced to participate in bloody awful shipping stories," George finished, ignoring the interruption by the omnipotent Author. 

Harry paused. "Wait, if this is a shipping story, why is the first time that I'm here." 

"You were in bloody chapter two!" Fred replied. 

"I mean," Harry laughed, "not that there is anything against you two… but people always ship me with everyone. I'm the main character." 

_Not in this story. I'm going back to the computer and figure something out… maybe a Malfoy…_

"Bloody hell," Fred whimpered. He got up from the ground. "You are not going to-" 

_You have no choice._

"… I mean, really, it wasn't Fred and George and the Philosopher's Stone, it was Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone…" Harry continued, oblivious to the fact that the twins had long stopped listening. 

_Yes, I think a Malfoy would be the best bet. I've heard that Lucius is a particularly luscious lover…_

"It is times like these that I really wished I wasn't a fictional character," Fred whispered to his twin. "No self-control I tell ya…" 


End file.
